Invisible Touch
by LadyAmortentia
Summary: "One hundred and seven deaths is quite impressive for a eighteen-year-old." "What can I say, Director, I have the right touch." In the year 2006, Anastasyia was injected with an unknown serum and now has a "death touch." After five years on the run, SHIELD has finally caught up up to her. Now, the only question left is can SHIELD reform her into who she once was. Movieverse CAxOC
1. Prologue - August 2006

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Avengers_, Marvel or any other noticeable characters, settings, plots, etc. **

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><p><strong>Prologue - August of '06<strong>

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><p>"Anastasiya! Come here!"<p>

Veronica looked at the syringe of blue liquid with a certain gleam in her eyes. _This is it._ After so much time, and many, many children, she finally had replicated the serum. Now, all she needed was the girl. _Where was she?_

"Anastasiya!"

"Coming, Miss Allen," was the response as a girl, no older than thirteen, ran down the basement stairs. "What is it that you needed, Miss Allen?"

"I need your help. Come over here, and lay on the table." Veronica gestured to the sterile, surgical table.

"But, why?" An expression of fear crossed the girl's face. Anastasiya looked like a caged animal. Her eyes darted from side to side looking for a way out.

"Because I said so!" Losing her patience, she grabbed Anastasiya's hair and tossed her towards the table. "Now go!"

Anastasiya gingerly climbed up on to the table, stripping down to her underwear as she went.

She had been in this house long enough to know nothing good ever came from getting on the table. Kids always got called down to the basement. _That_ wasn't uncommon. It was when you actually got called to get on the "table of doom" that the fear made itself present. You knew you weren't going to leave that basement; alive anyways.

Heather, the oldest "child" in the house, the only one to have survived her experiment, always told the others: "If you're told to get on the table, just do it. Don't fight; you don't want to end up like Finn. Just strip and pray to God."

A cold, hard slap snapped Anastasiya out of her thoughts. "Stupid girl! I said lay flat on your back and don't move!"

After a sigh of defeat, Anastasiya did as told without another word. Fear shook her to the very core. There was no getting out of the current situation. Veronica put restraints around her wrists, ankles and mid-section. Anastasiya watched as she went to grab something from another table, and put on a pair of latex, medical gloves. As Veronica came back with a very large needle, Anastasiya began to struggle.

"Now, this won't hurt a bit, sweetheart."

"Liar," Anastasiya croaked as she continued to struggle. This made it increasingly hard for Veronica to get near the girl.

"You know, if you don't co-operate, I'll just have to find another. Alisa would work well. Nine is a better age, anyways. The younger the child, the better they respond; even if the experiments never actually work." Veronica paused and stared down at the teen. "And she is such a darling little girl."

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare touch my sister!"

"Then stay still." Anastasiya fixed a furious glare on the older women.

Veronica positioned the needle just above the left side of the girl's chest. "Hold still," she hissed. Anastasiya paused in her movements. Plunging the needle into the girl's heart, Veronica took a moment to relish in the screams. Slowly, the blue substance emptied from the syringe, into Anastasiya's bloodstream via her heart.

It burned. It stung. The pain was worse than anything that Anastasiya could previously imagine. She just screamed. She screamed for the pain to stop, for her parents, her sister. She just wanted the pain to go away. Anastasiya screamed until her conscious was lost. She screamed for death to come and take her.

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><p>Two days later and Veronica still couldn't believe her luck. The girl was alive!<p>

As one would caress their most prized possession, Veronica brushed a matted piece of hair off the child's forehead. Frowning, she noticed the roots of the girl's blonde hair turning dark brown. _That was odd._ Heather's hair had done something similar when she was given the serum, only her once black hair had began to lighten to a dirty blond; her eyes had also lightened to an icy blue. Slowly, she peeled back Anastasiya's eyelids. Her once sky-blue irises had turned into a muddy brown.

The young girl had been replaced by shades of brown.

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><p>Groggily, Anastasiya opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. Everything hurt. As everything came back, she realized someone had moved her back to her bed. That's when it hit her: she was alive!<p>

"Annie!" She turned to see her little sister in the doorway. Alisa went and ran over to her sister - hugging her tightly.

Anastasiya shot up in bed, ignoring the pain in her chest, and held her sister at an arm's length. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," Alisa giggled. "Annie, you look like a crazy raccoon!"

"Gee, thanks, Little Bird." Anastasiya gently pushed her sister, and then cupped Alisa's cheek. A slight tingle made its self present at the point of skin-to-skin contact.

"Annie?" A frightened expression crossed her face. "Why are your eyes all black?"

"My eyes?" Anastasiya grabbed for the side-table hand mirror.

All of a sudden, the color drained from her sister's face and Alisa fell to the ground - a violent seizure overcoming her body. Alisa's veins began to stick out against her paper-white skin and her eyes fully dilated. What made the site all the more horrifying was the silent scream still etched on Alisa's face and the bloody tears that ran down from her un-blinking eyes. Anastasiya scrabbled off the bed and fell to her knees next to the fallen girl. She screamed Alisa's name over and over, trying to get her to wake up.

"It's your touch." Anastasiya turned around to see Miss Allen standing in the doorway.

"What . . . ?" She stared down at the body in her arms

"Your touch. The experiment didn't work on you. Instead of giving you a healing touch, you were given the touch of death. Lucky for me, I was wearing gloves when I touched you, but the two boys - Jimmy and Nathan - that brought you up here weren't so lucky. I'm surprised her skin didn't touch your sooner."

Dropping her sister's body, Anastasiya backed herself into the corner of the room. Silent tears streamed down her face as she began to shake. _She killed her sister. She killed the only family she had left. She killed Alisa._

"I had so hoped that you would be a complete success, but . . . I guess this means it's your time to go." Veronica pulled a small hand-gun out of her lab coat pocket and pointed it at Anastasiya.

"No!" Both turned to see a teenage girl burst into the room. Her eyes took in the scene and landed back on to the gun.

"Heather," Veronica barked. "Go back into the kitchen with the rest of the children."

"No," Heather replied, standing firm.

"Heather, please go. Grab the rest of the kids and the house and run. Please," Anastasiya pleaded from the corner.

"No! I am sick and tired of watching friends die over and over because of her experiments! Ten years! I have stood by for ten years as she as tried and tried again to create another me. And now look at you, Anna, she created a monster! You just killed you own sister because of her!"

"How long have you been watching, dear?" Veronica interrupted. _These children kept becoming more and more troublesome._

"Long enough. I watched you experiment on Anna. I know you threatened Alisa to get Anna to stop take part of your psychotic game. I am done."

"Sadly, that is not up to you." Veronica swung the gun around to point it at the first and only experiment to go right. "Heather, dear, I don't want to hurt you. You are still the only successful experiment."

"That's all we are to you: experiments!"

Veronica sighed and clicked off the safety.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Anastasiya jumped on Miss Allen's back trying to either grab the gun or make skin contact. She wasn't sure which; she just knew the Heather wouldn't die under her watch. It anyone was going to die, it would be the woman who ruined her life. When Miss Allen jerked to a halt and started to quake, Anastasiya knew she had managed the contact. Quickly, she got Miss Allen and went to join Heather by the door. Together the two girls watched their caretaker take her last breath.

"She deserved it." Heather left the room. "Come on."

Anastasiya cast one last glance at her sister before following the older girl down the hall.

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><p>Anastasiya shivered from inside the bath as Heather washed all the blood and sweat from her hair. Something she wouldn't have done without the protection of the latex gloves. No matter how much she loved Anna, Heather did not want to suffer such a gruesome death.<p>

"I'm a murderer," whispered Anastasiya, staring blankly at the tiled walls.

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't know what had happened to you. You couldn't have."

"Even you called me a monster." Anastasiya's tone wasn't accusing, but accepting.

Heather stopped her movements to stare at the grief-stricken girl. Shaking her head, she took up her scrubbing of Anastasiya's hair. "That was taken out of context."

"Heather, I'm leaving."

"Yes, but not on your own." Heather replied without missing a beat. Gently, she started to wash the soap from Anna's hair.

Anastasiya shook her head. "I can't ask that of you."

"Good thing I'm not asking then. I will get everything ready and plan tonight. Just do what I tell you and we will be out by tomorrow evening. After that, we never have to come back here again."

"What about the others?"

"Don't you worry about anything, Anna. I promise I will take care of you. Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"See, everything will work out."

"I don't know if I can make it another day. I killed Alisa. I have no family. What is the point anymore?"

"The point is that you have me." Silence filled the air.

Giving a satisfied nod, Heather finished cleaning up the young girl. Her mind worked in full as she planned out to get out and get rid of the extra kids in the house. Sadly, not everyone would live to see the fiery, New Mexican sunset of tomorrow.

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><p>Anastasiya watched silently as the last of them - a boy named Josh who was thirteen-years-old - fell to the ground. His stark black veins sticking out against the paleness of his skin.<p>

A hand closed softly around her shoulder. "You did the right thing, Anna. You set them free from their misery and pain. They are now with their families. They are in a better place now."

"Don't touch me." Anastasiya growled, shrugging off Heather's hand, turning away from the thirty-two dead bodies that were positioned around her. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as I finish gathering up the food and money. Living on the run isn't going to be easy."

"No one said it was going to be." Anastasia shook her head. She seemed to have doubled her age since her sister was murdered at her hand - no matter if it was an accident or not. "You have two hours before I torch the place."

"Whatever you say, Commander." Heather gave her a mock salute and when to collect the rest of the supplies.

Anastasiya gently wrapped her hands around Josh's ankles and began to drag him towards the backyard. She laid him between Kimberly and Peyton. Once she was done dragging the dead bodies of her friends from the living room, Anastasiya quickly arranged them by age on the lawn. Tears started to fill her eyes and she moved Alisa between Martin and Oliver. _No. You are strong. You will not cry._ She quickly wiped her face dry and continued to move the bodies. When Anastasiya was done, her gaze stared at the thirty-five dead children - all whose ages ranged from five to fifteen.

Heather silently joined her, sorrowfully staring.

"Is it done?" Anastasiya saw in her peripheral vision Heather lift two black backpacks and nod.

"Are you going to bring Miss Allen out her with them?"

_How could Heather think that?_ "That woman - that devil of a woman - doesn't deserve such pleasures. She will burn for her mistreatment of them - for us - not lay with them."

"Okay. It is your call in the end. I will start to pour the gasoline."

"The match is mine to throw."

"I know, Anna. God, I know."

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><p>Anastasiya stood with Heather across the street, staring at the starting-to-burn house. Anastasiya handed the stolen phone to Heather as the flames reached the second level. Once the call was made, both girls shouldered their bags and walked down the road. Away from everything they had known since the days of their kidnappings. Screaming sirens began to close in, but neither turned to watch as the men and women from the fire department tried to contain the flame.<p>

As the sun began to set, both life and death walked down Haven Avenue.

Anastasiya cast one last glance over her shoulder to look at the burning cemetery.


	2. Chapter 1 - A Faded Conscience

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own ****_The Avengers_****, Marvel or any other noticeable characters, settings, plots, etc.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - A Faded Conscience<strong>

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><p>Running down the street, into the nearest shop, Anastasiya couldn't believe she let Heather convince her to come back here.<p>

The small town which they were traveling through on their way to Santa Fé was now being ransacked by a giant, metal machine-man. The machine headed towards a group of eight people – four of which looked as if they were ready for Halloween.

"Do you think that belongs to that flying man with the suit?" Anastasiya jumped slightly as Heather came to a stop beside her. Both girls' faces held expressions of a cruel neutral as they watched the destruction.

"Tony Stark? Nah, this is too destructive." Anastasiya surveyed the scene. "And small. If Iron Man was going to go and destroy a town, I think it would be more on display than a nothing-sort-of-town in the middle of the desert."

"I guess you're right." Heather let out a sigh and turned away from the window. "We should grab some supplies while we're here. No one around to call the police."

"Borrowing without permission," Anastasiya unconsciously supplied

A smile small graced Heather's face at Anastasiya's thinking. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Anastasiya snorted. "Because your snoring doesn't help at all. Besides, I think the police are going to be more focused on what is happening outside than in here."

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><p>"No."<p>

"Anastasiya. Now is not the time to grow a conscience. Just touch him! He recognized us – how I don't know – but he did. Do you want to go to jail? Do you want the suits on us again? I know I don't."

"SHIELD hasn't found us in months, Heather!"

"That is because you touched the last ones that found us in Seattle!"

"They weren't married!"

"That you know of!" Heather interrupted.

"This guy has a family; I went through his wallet and found a picture. He's a father of three little girls. I will not leave them fatherless!"

Heather bit back a groan. "Anastasiya, you've been acting weird since yesterday. What happened to make you go soft?''

"I'm done with being your killing machine." Anastasiya whispered.

_Anastasiya looked around the destroyed town as Heather finished up inside the shop. Silently, she crept closer to the group of people she had seen earlier. One of the men from earlier was now dressed in the same garb as the others – his red cape blew behind him in the wind. What attracted Anastasiya's attention was the engraved hammer he held._

_Anastasiya continued to watch as the man talked to one of the women. Softly, he caressed her cheek and Anastasiya could see the tears in her eyes as the man gave her a chaste kiss and walked towards the others. As if a tunnel of light reached to the earth and grabbed the oddly dressed group, they disappeared. It then hit Anastasiya that the look of pain that was on the woman's face was one that was most likely on the face of every person she killed. They knew they would never see their loved ones again._

_Anastasiya turned away from the guilt-wrenching sight as she heard Heather call out her name for help._

"You are not a killing machine. You just have to sometimes kill people." The young adult shrugged her shoulders as if it was old news.

"Is that why you keep me around? Huh? You just wanted me along as these years so you wouldn't have to do the dirty work of murdering an innocent?"

"No one is completely innocent." Heather's tone darkened. "Yes, I didn't want to do the dirty work. When I heard what the experiment did to you, I saw it as my chance you get out of that place. You are a serial killer in all rights of the word, Anastasiya. Have you seen the news lately?"

Anastasiya clenched her fists as she glared at the woman she thought of as her protector. "Haven't had time lately between all the running and killing."

"They're calling you one of the biggest serial killers of the century. 'Spanning across the U.S., no one seems to know who this murderer is. The poison is unknown at this time, and the killer is clean-cut and dangerous.' Do you know that you can never have a normal life now? You can't even touch people without killing them. I mean, you killed your own sister. Little Alisa would still be alive if it was not for you."

With each word Heather spoke, Anastasiya's vision turned redder and redder. She knew she was a killer. She knew that she was dangerous and wanted by the government. She also knew that Heather wasn't exactly truthful in why she kept Anastasiya around, but mentioning Alisa was the last straw.

With one smooth jump, Anastasiya lunged at Heather, wrapping her hands around the other woman's throat.

At the contact of skin, the two girls were each thrown away from each other; a blast radiated through the air.

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><p>What shocked Anastasiya the most when she first woke up was the smell. It was a sterile smell. Slowly opening her eyes, Anastasiya noticed the clean white walls that surrounded her with surprise. Everything was . . . clean. Almost too clean. What had happened. Anastasiya shot up in bed to find a blonde women standing in the shadows. The blonde seemed to only be ten or so years older than Anastasiya.<p>

Discreetly trying to get some of the covering clothes off (namely her pants as the t-shirt she was wearing was huge), Anastasiya asked, "Who are you?" Her voice was rough.

The women slowly walked forward, one hand on the gun on her hip. "Miss Kane, I am Agent 13 of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division,"

"And here I thought I was done with you SHIELD agents." The agent smirked at the young woman.

"I will admit, you did give us a run for our money, Miss Kane." Agent 13 slowly made her way to the side of the hospital bed. "You must understand. Your . . . powers, if you will, make you incredibly dangerous."

"Yes, I know. And I'm tired of people trying to catch me."

Agent 13 opened her mouth to speak. "SHIELD just wants to help."

"I'm sure."

Taking her chance, Anastasiya shot out her leg towards the Agent's hand holding her gun. Agent 13 quickly jerked her hand away to avoid the skin contact - only to not grab her gun in time. Anastasiya quickly kicked the gun towards the door and made raced towards it. Grabbing it before the other woman, Anastasiya swung the gun around to face the Agent.

Agent 13 ignored the gun in her face and tried to keep eye-contact the girl.

"Miss Kane . . . Anastasiya." Agent 13 slowly approached the her, hands raised. "Drop the gun. Please. You're frightened and confused. Let me explain everything to you."

"I am sorry, Agent, but I don't think I can do that." Anastasiya quickly shot at the kneecap of the other female and fled the room.

Running down the hallways, Anastasyia made her way to the elevator unnoticed. Once inside, that was a different story. A voice came over the intercom asking for voice confirmation. _Dang it!_ Jumping out of the elevator before the doors closed, Anastasiya went down the opposite hallway from which she had just arrived.

Agents came from every room to try to stop her.

The agent's gun and her touch came in handy right then. Anastasiya ran through the building, blindly shooting anyone in her way. Agent 13 was right when she assumed Anastasiya was frightened and confused. _How had SHIELD found her and where was Heather? _She didn't know who to get out of there. Anastasiya was running in circles._ There must be an exit somewhere._

A sudden pain erupted in both her shoulder and side. Touching the sensitive area, Anastasiya's hand came back bright red. Her mind flew back to the memory of her and Heather running into a gang back in Miami.

Anastasiya quickly made her way towards the emergency staircase of the unknown building - taking out anyone how got in her way. She started to pant as she continued to make her way down the flights of stairs. Having been running for five years gave her great stamina, but even this was tough for her. Anastasiya jumped back from the railing as a gunshot echoed. _Now they were shooting at her? So much for explaining everything. Not that she didn't deserve it for shooting the agents._

_"Anastasiya Kane! Drop your weapon and surrender!"_ A voice sounded over the intercom. The stairwell filled itself with a red-flashing light.

Anastasiya let out an unladylike snort as she continued to dodge bullets and run down the stairs. _How high was this building?_ As she approached the last level, a blur of red sideswiped Anastasiya knocking her on her back. She watched as a woman in a black catsuit stalked towards her, calling off the other agents. Anastasiya looked around for the stolen gun - finding it lying innocently in the crook of a stair.

"Are you going to stop fighting, or am I going to have to drag you back to the Director?" A husky, Russian-accented voice filled Anastasiya's ear and she sucked in a deep breath.

Immediately, she was reminded of home.

"You can't touch me." Anastasiya's voice was shaking from the rush of memories that ran across her mind.

The Russian held up glove-covered hands.

_Get it together._ Anastasiya shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere with you." Gaining a bit of confidence back, she smirked up at the red-headed agent. "My Nana always told me to never trust a Russian who isn't your семья*."

A look of surprise briefly flitted across the other's face. "She's a smart woman."

"Obviously not. She was murdered by her husband twenty-months ago. I am on the run; not in a cave."

"I still have to take you in." The agent quickly knocked the grip of her gun against Anastasiya's head. This happened too quick for Anastasiya to react and her vision turned starry and black.

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><p>For the second time that day Anastasiya opened her eyes, the room was not clean this time though. In fact, she could swear there were blood stains on the wall. The door opened and in walked a tall, dark-skinned man. The man was dressed in a black trench coat with a eye-patch covering his left eye.<p>

"Come to torture the truth out of me? Honestly, you should just let me go. I'm not of much worth to you."

The man walked a bit further into the room. "I would say you aren't in any position to be making demands, Miss Kane."

Anastasiya finally took note of her current state. They hand redressed her in a solid, one-piece of clothing that covered every inch of her skin up to the base of her head; gloves and combat boots covered her hands and feet respectively. Anastasiya's wrist were tied behind her back - around the chair, causing a strain on her shoulders - and her ankles were also attached to the legs of the chair. She could feel the dried blood on her forehead from where the agent hit her with the gun. The areas where the bullets had pierced her skin seemed to be stitched up and healing. That was one side effect of the injection that Anastasiya didn't mind. Death seemed to find everyone around her, but but skipped over her all together.

"May I at least know your name since you seem to know mine?"

"Fury."

"Are you the director the Russian was talking about."

The Director stopped his pacing to stare at Anastasiya. She merely gave him a dry smile. Fury went back to his pacing, cryptically watching the girl. "One hundred and seven deaths is quite impressive for an eighteen-year-old. This does not include the twelve dead and twenty-three injured agents you just had "fun" with."

Anastasiya rolled her shoulders back and cocked her head. "What can I say, Director, I have the right . . . touch."

"Indeed."

Then Fury ended the niceties and started the interrogation.

For the next three hours, the Director would ask questions of all shapes and size to get a reaction out of the teen. Asking her about Heather, about the many deaths over the years that held her signature, about her 'adoption', her family. . . Fury asked Anastasiya about anything that could get a reaction out of her, but she hollowed her eyes and silently stared at him. Anastasiya made no move to act responsive to the Director's word. This frustrated him to no end.

As Fury went to leave the room, Anastasiya mumbled something in German.

"What was that?" Fury peered at the girl who was now looking exhausted and in pain.

"I'll talk to her. I'll talk to the Russian. The only way you're going to get me to say anything is if you bring her in."

Giving the girl an uninterested look, Fury continued on his way out of the room.

Only when he was safely out of the room did the Director go and find Russian Anastasiya was talking about: Agent Romanoff.

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><p>Agent Romanoff silently made her way into the room upon Fury's request. She would admit this young girl intrigued her. After ready Anastasiya Kane's file, she could admit that she was very curious about the teenager, especially the years that were missing. She stared at the girl and couldn't help but feel pity. Under all the black clothing, you couldn't tell the color of her skin. Her dark hair hung limply like a curtain around her head.<p>

Setting herself up in a comfortable position, Agent Romanoff stared at the girl for only a few more seconds.

"Talk."

The command made Anastasiya's head snap up and stare at the woman leaning against the wall. The woman was dressed in a black catsuit with her red hair cascading down over her shoulders like a waterfall; green eyes watched Anastasiya carefully. She hadn't even heard the agent enter the room.

"My name is Anastasiya Drew Kane. My date of birth is April eleventh, nineteen-ninety-three. I am the only one of my family alive, except my father's father who currently resides in Stuttgart, Germany. As the Director so kindly pointed out earlier, I have a total of one hundred and seven deaths under my name."

"I read your file. I already know this."

"What's your name?" Anastasiya asked ignoring the Agents earlier statement.

The agent seemed to size the teen up from her placement against the wall. "My name is Agent Romanoff."

"That's a lie." Anastasiya pointed out in Russian. Switching back to English, she said, "Why do you Americanize your name?"

"Why did you kill all those people?"

"Survival."

"Survival, indeed," the agent muttered. Sharply, she looked up at the girl.

Agent Romanoff couldn't help but see herself in the girl. In fact, that shred of innocence Anastasiya held in her eyes reminded the red-head of the girls who never fully gave into the KGB and were later disposed of. That . . . light . . . in her eyes was something she had hoped to regain when she joined SHIELD after Agent Barton found her. Agent Romanoff felt conflicted for the first time in years. She was usually so confident._  
><em>

From behind the glass, Director Fury noticed a change in the Agent.

Agent Romanoff deeply breathed through her nose. Opening her mouth, her accent came through clearly. "Natalia Romanova."

Anastasiya looked at the Natalia with a small smile. "That was what my mother wanted to name me . . . Then I was born on the Easter holidays and my parents decided Anastasiya suited me better."

"Resurrection."

"Yes." Anastasiya couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Alisa got the normal name."

"Your sister," Natalia nodded her head. She watched as Anastasiya's expression turned serious.

"Natalia? I'm going to only say this once, so, if you want to write it down or something, I'd get ready. I don't care who listens, but they have to stay on the other side of the glass with the Director. I know he's there."

The agent nodded once and left the room, trying to forget how wonderful it felt to hear someone say her name without contempt.

Anastasiya watched the Russian agent leave. The name "Natalia" made her feel safe. With Agent Romanoff, she was able to have a feeling of home.

Anastasiya rotated her shoulders and held her head high. _It was now or never._

* * *

><p>" . . . Heather wanted to go back to the Miss Allen's house in Albuquerque. That was why we were in New Mexico; we were making our way to Santa Fé to catch a train. Somehow, we ran into the costume party they had going on in the middle of the desert. I decided I didn't want to kill anymore and the next day when I refused, Heather became very angry and in my anger, I touched her - tried to choke her. The last thing I remember is being thrown into the air."<p>

Anastasiya's voice floated through the microphone and entered the room.

The three computer analysts, therapist, three agents - not including Agent Romanoff who was in the room with Anastasiya, but including both Agent 13 and Agent Coulson - and the Director couldn't help but feel some form of pity or sympathy for the teen.

"Director?" One of the analysts called. "Everything about her story seems to check out. It seems both of the Kane sisters were taken from the orphanage a day before either of the grandparents could retrieve them."

"Sir," another analyst called. "It appears that David Kane with second-cousins with Heather Jones' mother."

"That cannot be a coincidence," Agent 13 said as she balanced herself on her crutches.

Director Fury rubbed his head and looked at Anastasiya again. Her and Agent Romanoff were having a conversation in Russian, which - from the look on the girl's face - was some she clearly missed.

"Coulson," barked Fury. "Contact Stark. I want to see if he can created something for the girl to wear over her skin."

"Planning on making an agent out of her, sir?" Coulson asked, bringing his phone to his ear.

"Have Natasha train her."

Everyone in the room to look at the Agent who had just entered the room. Agent Clint Barton had everyone's full attention. "She is a lot like Natasha when I first brought her in. She actually has more of a conscience than Natasha did."

"I see you're back from your mission, Barton." Fury stared at the man with a blank expression.

"Well, I couldn't miss the fun."

Agent 13 snorted. "If you call getting shot in the knee fun; you can go and join Romanoff in the room."

"And how did the girl get the gun?" By the smirk on his face, Agent 13 knew Agent Barton was mocking her. "Have Natasha train her."

With that, Agent Barton left the room.

"Barton is right. I saw it when she shot me." Everyone turned to look at the blonde agent. "The girl still has a conscience, it's just faded."

* * *

><p><strong>семья = Family<strong>


	3. Chapter 2 - Meeting the Black Widow

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own ****_The Avengers_****, Marvel or any other noticeable characters, settings, plots, etc.**

**AN: There will be teasing and name calling between Natasha and Anastasiya ('crazy Russian' 'insane German') I hope in no way to offend anyone.**

**Also, I would recommend re-reading the last chapter. I added and took away some of the writings.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Meeting the Black Widow<strong>

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><p>After five minutes of pacing in the hallway, Natasha convinced herself her idea was good, and entered the Director's Manhattan office.<p>

"Sir?"

Fury turned around. Natasha stood in the doorway of his office - an unreadable look covered her face. "Agent Romanoff."

"Let me train her. Anastasiya could be a wonderful asset to SHIELD. You saw her when she tried to escape; what she said about that gang in Miami she ran with. Let me train her."

"Agent Romanoff." Fury stepped out of behind the desk and studied the woman before him. "It this your way of helping yourself?"

Natasha cast a glance at the ground. Nothing got past Fury. "I see myself in her."

"Agent Barton said something similar." The Director received a confused glance. "Train her, but one mistake and she will be put down. Miss Kane is not an Agent, but an asset.

"Understood, Sir."

* * *

><p>"Again."<p>

Once again, her face was against the cool, red mat. Anastasiya had had it with the continuous command. She felt as if that was all anyone ever said to her anymore. "Crazy Russian."

"I hope you mean yourself," Natasha said, a cool smirk graced her face as she looked at the brunette on the ground.

"I'm only half Russian."

"Insane German."

"Again, only half." Anastasiya pushed herself off the ground and braced herself for a fight. "I thought you knew that. Are those hits to your head finally getting to you?"

"What hits, you mutant?" A genuine smile crossed the assassins face as Anastasiya let out a laugh. "Thirty minute break but that's all, then we'll go back to to training."

"You mean watch Anastasiya get her butt handed to her."

"I have been doing this a lot longer than you, Ana."

Natasha went over to bag to check her phone. No new missions. While she was beginning to love Ana and training her, she felt bored. This was the longest she had ever been "stationed" in one place. Natasha needed to fight someone who gave her a challenge - and that wasn't Ana.

"Natalia?"

Gently raising an eyebrow at the girl, Natasha eyed Anastasiya and her spread-eagle position on the mat. "Yes?"

"What exactly do you do for SHIELD? I mean, I have a feeling you could kill someone with just your thighs. I know you go easy on me."

Anastasiya shifted onto her side and stared. She could visibly see Natalia somewhat stiffen at the question.

"I . . . I have many select . . . skills . . . that are used to collect intel for SHIELD."

Anastasyia narrowed her eyes at the completely composed face of the red-head. "Liar." Natasha shrugged her shoulders and went back to typing away at her phone.

Eyeing the Natalia's back, Anastasiya silently got of the mat and shed her top layer of clothing. With her arms, legs, feet, and hands free of their confines, she ran at her. Natalia sent her leg out and sent her flying. Groaning, Anastasiya watched Natalia stock towards her.

"Ты глуп?"

"Нет." Anastasiya smoothly swung her leg out and manged to make the other fall. "I'm just trying. I don't want you to train me."

"Then find someone else," Natasha spat at Anastasiya, cutting her off. The girl had knocked her on her side and that bruised the assassin's ego.

"I want you to teach me. Stop playing nice and stop trying to just go easy on me. I know how to use a gun; teach me to shot different kinds of guns. I already know I'm a great shot. You saw all the agents I took out a month ago. I read your file, I know what you did before this job. I've seen the footage. I want you to teach me. I want the Black Widow to teach me. Seduction, interrogation, the whole nine-yards."

"How did you read that file?" Natasha did not mask her emotions. Shock, surprise, and many other emotions were going through her head. No one was supposed to know about her time with the KGB; only agents with level nine clearance and above could have access to her file.

"I went up to level ten and hacked into the mainframe of SHIELD using another agent's password. I had his ID back on him before he even knew he lost it." Anastasiya shrugged her shoulders. "Old habits die hard."

"I'm going to have to report you to Fury."

"Do what you have to, but as soon as they come after me. I'll hightail it out of here. I already have four different escape routed planned."

"You may not be good in combat, but I'll admit that your skills are impressive."

"So you're not turning me into Fury?" Anastasiya looked at Natalia with a hopeful glint in her eye.

"No. You deserve a chance."

"And you're not made about me hacking into your file?"

"I'll admit it irritates me, but you were bound to find out someday. Just usually it takes new recruits years before they even have clearance to know who the Black Widow is."

"I'm sorry, Natalia. I promise I will never look at _your_ file again."

"How about this?" A smirk made its way onto Natasha's face. "I teach you to be the new Black Widow. A better Black Widow. And it will be our little secret."

A matching smirk made its appearance the brunette's face. Anastasiya went over to her pile of clothes, picking up a glove. Turning back to Natalia, she held out her covered hand. "Я не подведу вас, Наталья."

Natasha reached out her hand and shook the other girls. "я знаю."

* * *

><p><strong>Ты глуп = Are you stupid<strong>

**Нет = No**

**Я не подведу вас, Наталья = I won't fail you, Natalia**

**я знаю = I know**


End file.
